They Say That 'home Is

I . . . Am Small, Like The Wren, And My Hair Is Bold Like The Chestnut Burr; And My Eyes Like The Sherry In The Glass That The Guest Leaves.

We Outgrow Love Like Other Things And Put It In A Drawer, Till It An Antique Fashion Shows Like Costumes Grandsires Wore.

Sweet Skepticism Of The Heart That Knows And Does Not Know And Tosses Like A Fleet Of Balm Affronted By The Snow.

Opinion Is A Flitting Thing But Truth Outlasts The Sun.

Those Who Lift Their Hats Shall See Nature As Devout Do God.